It was Poetry (for Kazim Ali)

collage poem: 7/18/2008 9:39 PM

Photo by ev on Unsplash

It was Poetry (for Kazim Ali)

The latest thing is to claim that it is “too late”
intended to cause us to give up.
It is never too late.
The shadow apparently is not a normal man.

We consider ourselves to be a family.
All look out for each other.
[The] situation with the police mirrors a sweeping trend in America.
To speak honestly. Why? To play it safe?
To avoid conflict?
For a Stronger America?

I went out to my car and grabbed a box of old poetry manuscripts
and put it next to the trashcan
A man I had never met looked straight through me.
But this man is harmless—he is just a little off—but harmless.
[However, I] was watched, noted, and reported, all in a day’s work.
[These days] it is deemed perfectly appropriate behavior to spy on one another.

The bomb squad came,
The state police came.
Buildings were evacuated,
Classes were canceled,
Campus was closed.

Because of the culture of fear
carefully cultivated in the media,
He saw my darkness [and]
A “suspicious package”.
[It was] old poetry manuscripts!

The gathering crowd,
[was] making the people inside nervous.
The cop wrote some things down
“You understand,” he said.
“You are a person of indeterminate origin.”
In the current climate [I was told] I need to be more careful about how I behave.

 The incident?
An “honest mistake”.
[The] report does not mention the root cause of the alarm. 

It was poetry, I kept insisting.
[But let’s] pretend that nothing’s amiss.

Based on this event: https://przxqgl.hybridelephant.com/2007/04/28/931/

7/18/2008 9:39 PM